spoiled

The second time I took Littles back to the vet was because she wouldn't eat and her incision was splitting back open.  I was scared her guts were going to spill out which made my husband laugh, but seriously, it could happen!  She had a huge rash too but I just assumed that was razor burn.  I can believe they shaved her stomach!!  She didn't eat for two days after surgery so I called my vet and they told me to try boiled chicken and eggs.  They meant for a day or two but I just did it all week.  I decided it was time for her to be back on kibble but she wouldn't eat it.  After two days I was worried so I took her to the animal ER.  I was taken to a room to wait for the vet and Littles kept trying to climb in my lap, pulling me off the chair.  When the vet walked in I was sitting on the floor with my 70 pound dog half on my lap and resting her head on my chest.  The vet said my dog was spoiled, so I asked Littles what she thought.  Naturally.  Of course she disagreed.  Then the vet pointed out I was sitting on the floor with her.  Doesn't everybody do that??  She said the incision looked normal, but the rash was an allergic reaction to the stitches and gave me pills for it.  She told me Lia was spoiled and was just working me because she'd rather have chicken and eggs than her kibble and to stop giving her broth instead of water.  I covered Lia's ears so she couldn't hear the mean things the horrible woman said.  I asked the vet, "So basically I am paying you $150 to tell me something already knew?"  Come on, I KNEW that not everyone made their dogs scrambled eggs every day.  Irritated that somebody would have the guts to tell my baby that to her face I stormed out to my car.  I opened my phone and had a message from my husband saying to text when I was on my way home so he could warm the electric blanket for her and start her eggs so they were ready when we got home.  I busted up laughing.  Maybe the vet had a point?  Then Lia started throwing herself into my door and glove box because she was so mad I had taken her back to the horrible place that gutted her.  I yelled at her and she gave me a dirty look and tore up my carpet.  She is so cute.
That picture is the day I brought her home from the breeder's.  It's why her name is Littles.  She was about eight pounds and the sweetest puppy that ever existed.  How could I not spoil her?  I only wish she'd realize she wasn't that small anymore.  And that it hurts a little when she runs into my legs to knock me on the ground so she can snuggle.